


Rebellions are Built on Hope

by Songbirdorlioness



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, F/M, Zutara month 2017, probably pretty ooc be warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 23:31:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12922548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Songbirdorlioness/pseuds/Songbirdorlioness
Summary: The Star Wars au nobody asked for.





	Rebellions are Built on Hope

**Author's Note:**

> born of my original trilogy rewatch, featuring: extremely ooc zuko and katara, light smut (lime not lemon, a shaky star wars au, and my 1am delirium filled, pretty terrible writing. Enjoy, maybe.

Katara is from an icy planet, she is practically melting in the sticky heat that permeates this crowded Cantina on some force-forsaken swamp planet in the outer rim. It is her years of diplomatic training, poise and control drilled into her by her mother and father as Princess of the Southern Tribe, that keeps her acting as if nothing bothers her. To everyone in this bar she is simply some nobody, nursing a drink at the bar. She is not Senator Katara, not Southern Princess of Aquitaes Prime, and definitely not Rebel spy, codename: La, waiting to meet fellow spy, codename: Agni, in order to obtain vital information pertaining to the war plans of Phoenix King and suspected sith lord Ozai. 

 

The Rebel Alliance, otherwise known as The White Lotus, has had an inside source passing on information for a very long time. Katara, in her role as senator, served as the go between for Agni and her Father, she had strong suspicions who her mysterious partner was but now that the Imperial senate was dissolved she hadn’t imagined she would find out. 

 

Of course fate would have it that Agni had been compromised in some way. She had got the seven-way-encrypted message on her comlink with the coordinates for a dingy bar on the outer rim, about as far away from Caldera as one could get, about a month after her escape from Caldera.

 

As Katara waits she takes in the sickly sweet tang of her drink settling on her tongue, brown curls sticking to her neck in the muggy air, smooth, bright music swaying the crowd and she wonders at the simplicity of it all. How, far away from Caldera and the War and all the division and suffering in the galaxy, there is simple enjoyment in music and liquor. She finds her thoughts drifting to her time in the Imperial Senate. There was never anything simple about life on Caldera. The senate was a joke, a puppet show meant to appeal to the people of the galaxy, to lull them into a false sense of harmony that the Four Nations Alliance was not dead and gone under the tyranny of the Galactic Fire Empire. Her time was spent pandering to stuffy old senators, negotiating meaningless deals, avoiding the pervasive gaze of the Emperor and trying not to punch the Prince in the face for his insolence and idiocy. 

 

That stupid, good-for-nothing, nerf-herding, son-of-a-baantha, flyboy, show-off who acted like all that mattered was his Father’s praise that never came and as if all the suffering in the rest of the galaxy couldn’t equate to his. She couldn’t help but hate him, if it weren’t for him, the senate might still be intact and some semblance of order might still remain. 

 

They had ended up in the Senate prison together, when the Princess had thrown her in for rebel sympathies. Supposedly, he was in for the same reason. His regime, and everything that his Family stood for had ended the Jedi Order, had ripped peace from the Galaxy, had taken her mother from her and she hated him for it. This had all spilled out in angry yelling to the Prince himself, all hot tears and seething rage that had been snuffed out in a second but the quiet, raw voice that had said ‘that’s something we have in common’. In the Force she could feel his grief as clear as day and piercing as any blade and it broke her heart. 

 

She hated him for that as well. 

 

He had earned her pity, her trust, her concern and he had thrown it all away when he had helped his sister try to kill her rescuers. She had begged him to join her and he had knocked her brother down, leaving the Princess a clear path for her lightning to meet Aang’s chest. 

 

It was the grace of the Force that got them out, Katara’s frantic shooting while her brother piloted them away. It was Katara’s time-honed skill in medicine and the Force-powered healing that saved Aang’s life. The Galaxy’s last hope for peace between light and dark.

 

And after all that happened, what weighs on her most is the bitter taste of betrayal and the tear in her heart that Prince Zuko had left.

 

She hates him.

 

She can still hear his voice in her head…

 

“Senator Katara?” it whispers and Katara whips around when she realises that was not in her head. 

 

Suddenly everything falls into place and she wants to cry.

 

“The quest is for truth above all else” she says, and she hopes to all hope that she is wrong at the same time, praying she is right.

 

“The Lotus opens wide for those who know her secrets” he shoots back, tension visibly seeping out of him. 

 

Of-kriffing-course. 

 

Of course Agni would turn out to be the one person she would rather strangle then have a civil conversation with.

 

“La, let’s get out of here. I have information that needs to get to the Grandmaster as soon as possible.” he seems to calm, flat, as if this is rehearsed. Katara wants to yell and scream but she cannot do that here so she follows him.

 

In the safety of the swamp, where no one can overhear, Katara whirls towards Zuko and holds him in place with the Force.

 

“I can’t believe you are Agni, you  _ betrayed  _ me, you betrayed us all, you could have come with us when I escaped but you tried to  _ kill _ the last of the Jedi!”

 

“Katara you don’t understand, I couldn’t leave yet. My father, I knew he was planning something and I hate to find out what it was. He had to believe I was loyal… and I… I wanted him to…” Zuko trails off, suddenly seeming so small. Katara drops her Force hold an he falls to the ground.

 

“He’s going to burn the Earth Quadrant until it’s nothing more than dust and ashes, and then he’ll move onto the everyone else. He’s building a machine, a destroyer of worlds.  _ The Death Star _ . And I have the plans to it. Please Katara, hate me all you want, but try to understand, I  _ had to.” _

 

Katara sinks to her knees in front of him and glares.

 

“Why should I believe you.” 

 

“Search my feelings, I’m telling the truth.” and Katara does. She reaches out through the force and he drops shields she hadn’t even noticed. His mind is a tempest, full of pain and rage and bitterness, drowning in loss and loneliness but underneath it all is a tiny spark of hope and a deep honesty. She feels his emotions, his anger at himself, his guilt over betraying her… and then she’s slipping deeper and she’s seeing his memories. A sister’s taunts, his father’s saber coming down to burn his face, his mother… screaming as his father sends bolts of lightning through her for daring to use the Force… his mother teaching him- and Katara falls backwards like she’s been slapped.

 

He is just like her. They are force sensitive. They are lonely. Their mothers are dead and gone and they are full of rage but they have hope. 

 

She doesn’t notice her own tears until the Prince’s thumb brushes them away. 

 

“I’m Zuko, it’s nice to meet you” she looks him in the eyes and in their bright gold she sees everything he is trying to say to her. 

 

“I’m Katara, let’s get out of here”

* * *

 

 

They are on her tiny ship, hurtling through hyperspace and neither can say a word. 

 

There is still so much anger and hurt between them but there is a sense of solidarity. 

 

Katara looks up and catches Zuko’s eye. 

 

He is staring at her.

 

She is young, she is lonely, she could die soon.

 

He is attractive, he understand, and he is  _ here. _

 

So she grabs his collar and holds her face close to his. 

 

He meets her eyes and she knows he is thinking exactly the same thing.

 

She doesn’t hate him so much, she thinks, when their lips are pressed together. She doesn’t hate him so much when his mouth is on her neck, and his hands are down her pants, or when she reciprocates.

 

He is dangerous (but so is she). He is still a nerf-herder. He is still a pretentious jerk, but he kisses her and he is here and she is not so lonely anymore.

 

Tomorrow is a new day, and maybe she will hate him even less when the plans for his father’s defeat are set into motion. She thinks, with enough time, she might even forgive him, but right now she will kiss him until her lips are raw and hold onto their shared hope for a better future.


End file.
